


To Kill With Kindness

by ravels



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AU, Fluff, High School AU, M/M, May Not Update Ever So Read At Own Risk, Phan - Freeform, generic au, rivals to friends to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 11:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7221172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravels/pseuds/ravels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan Howell and his best friend, Chris Kendall, are really nice, and award-winningly so. Every year in their high school, their school newspaper holds a competition to see who is the most “exceptionally kind;” the flaw in this, of course, is that many have interpreted this as a popularity contest, which it is in many ways. But just when Dan and Chris think they have this competition in the bag, enter Phil Lester, the ridiculously nice underdog and the new kid, whose charmingly lopsided smile and never-ending kindness may even upstage Dan and Chris’ best efforts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Kill With Kindness

**Author's Note:**

> hi so i finally wrote a fic! dans kinda mean in this i guess but i think its fine

**_Friday, 10 June, 2016_ **

**_STUDENT KINDNESS RETURNS TO THE FOREFRONT_ **

_For the fourth year in a row and by popular demand, we at_ The Declarer _have elected to bring back a tradition and host the annual “Kindness Competition” in the running until end of term. The competition will take place from Monday, 13 June to Thursday, 30 June, with a voting on “Nicest Student” taking place on the Friday after, 1 July._

_Back in the competition will be old favourites such as the past winners, Dan Howell and Chris Kendall, as well as newcomers from the Year Seven class and from the smattering of new students in other classes. It’s yet to be seen whether any of these newcomers have some type of exceptional kindness that can defeat the reigning champs, what with the impressive record and reputation in the student body that they hold. However, regardless of who has a shot at winning, after last year’s exciting turnout and the way that each year’s contest is always more exhilarating than the last, this year’s is sure to be a thriller._

Dan put down the newspaper and chuckled. “Do they even know what they’re in for? Attempting to beat us at this? Again?”

The din of chatter in the school dining hall was loud but pleasant. A gentle buzz of voices, each set of friends sitting together at a table, lost in conversation together. Dan sat with Chris, his partner in crime, munching on a tomato-mozzarella sandwich as his companion sat next to him, chowing down on his own chicken-cheddar sandwich. By now, all studying for exams that they had done earlier had been abandoned along with Dan’s study materials, which lay spilling across the table and strewn around them, left in favour of the latest issue of the school newspaper.

“You’d think they’d have learned by now,” Chris replied nonchalantly from next to him, sliding his copy of _The Declarer_ back towards him and continuing to skim down the article. “Ha!” he said exuberantly, slightly muffled through a mouthful of chicken. “As if _any_ of the Year Sevens have a _chance_.”

“Yeah. From what I’ve seen so far, the Year Sevens just seem like little shits to me. Plus, our classmates? Being “exceptionally kind”? What a fucking joke,” Dan added.

Chris waggled his eyebrows mysteriously. “But who knows. Maybe there’s a dark horse that even we didn’t account for, maybe even someone in our grade. An impossible contestant. Someone that’s so nice that light radiates from them wherever they go, someone so nice that flowers grow in their wake, someone so nice that they’re a walking ray of sunshine—”

There were a few seconds of silence between them before they both burst out in  laughing.

“Damn, Chris, that’s a good one,” Dan chortled, taking a bite of his own sandwich. “You’re right. That _is_ an impossible contestant. And you know what? Even if that person did exist, they still wouldn’t get votes because everyone loves us and you know it. We get good grades, but not _too_ good, we’re normal, but still relatable and nerdy, and we’ve got just enough teachers liking us that we aren’t teacher’s pets but we aren’t the most hated kids in the class. We’ve got this in the fucking  _bag_ , dude. Plus, we’re friends. We’re a dynamic duo. Double the damage.”

Chris elbowed Dan in the ribs jokingly, grinning and tossing his hair. “Not to mention that if you put together the hotness factor that we both have, it makes us _irresistible_.”

“Now, now, Chris,” Dan chided falsely. He donned a fake pout. “It’s not nice to say those kinds of things. We aren’t Ouran High School Host Club, you know.”

They both laughed through their mouthfuls of food as the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch period. Dan hastily began stuffing books into his jet-black bookbag as Chris, who had all of his own belongings neatly stuffed in a bag slung across his shoulder, stood waiting for him. “You go on to class, Chris,” Dan called as he shoved a copy of _Attack on Titan_ into his bag. “I’ll be just a minute.”

“Shit, shit, shit,” Dan mumbled, trying to gather up the pencils that had rolled out of his bag onto the table. He really needed to stop buying so many pencils. He should have seen this coming honestly— too many pencils loaded into one bag, inevitably rolling out of the bag, falling onto the floor, and of course breaking. Why was graphite so fragile? He had a pocket in his bookbag dedicated solely to holding pencils so that they didn’t make markings on his books, yet this somehow managed to happen to him. It figured. Nice or not, Dan _did_ have the worst luck with small, pointy objects.

And why did _he_  have to bring the study materials? Why couldn’t Chris carry some of the load? Dan ended up lugging the heavy textbooks to and from class day after day and Chris was free as a bird, looking off of Dan’s notes every time they studied. It wasn’t fair.

By now the dining hall was nearly empty, and Dan was going to be late to class. He was never late to class. Hopefully Chris would explain to the teacher why he was late, but that still didn’t guarantee that Dan wouldn’t get a detention. He wasn’t entirely certain of what the teacher of his next class thought of him. He was popular with most of the teachers, but some of them just seemed to have it out for him. Teachers were weird like that sometimes.

“Need some help with that?”

Dan looked over his shoulder from the mess of pencils strewn across the table to see a lanky boy about his age standing behind him with black hair, a lopsided grin, and a bookbag similar to Dan’s own slung across his shoulder. The offer seemed genuine. “Uh, no, I think I’ve got this under control,” Dan replied, dropping a now-broken pencil into his bookbag haphazardly.

“No, I don’t think you do,” said the boy, halting a rolling pencil under his shoe to prove his point, grin only growing. “What class do you have next? I have Clarke.”

“Same here,” Dan grunted, lifting his Calculus textbook and dropping it in the bag with a _thud_. “So what?”

“I could help you out and walk you there,” the other boy offered, plucking the last four stray pencils from the floor and dropping them in the bag. His fingers were long, pale, and nimble, and miraculously, those pencils seemed to have retained their sharpness, unlike all the pencils that Dan had managed to recover.

“You’ll be late too,” Dan pointed out as he zipped the bag closed and started to walk in the general direction of his classroom. The sound of his black trainers against the linoleum floor was disturbingly loud, echoing down the now-empty hallways only a few minutes after the bell had rung. 

The sound of the other kid’s footfalls only echoed from behind him as he persisted to wear his argument. “Yeah, but Clarke favours me. A lot. With me here, you don’t have a chance at getting a detention.”

Dan considered that. A detention would be bad for his reputation. He could use this.

“Okay, fine.”

The other kid smiled at him and Dan looked away, staring determinedly ahead as they walked together to class. The silence was thick and not entirely uncomfortable, just really fucking _weird_.

“What’s up with you anyway? Why are you doing this?” Dan queried, still unwaveringly looking ahead.

“Well, you looked like you needed some help, so I thought I’d give you a hand,” said the other kid from behind him. A likely story. This was _secondary school_ , for fuck’s sake. _Everyone_ had ulterior motives.

“Really?” The classroom was in view, meaning that soon Dan would be able to ditch this kid. This weirdly nice, lanky, nimble-fingered kid. Nice, but probably not well-liked among the student body. A nobody. He probably wouldn’t get votes. Come to think of it, he might not even be trying to win.

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” Dan didn’t believe it. This was utterly ridiculous.

There was a few more seconds of silence, before the kid added, “And I gotta make my reputation with the student body somehow, if I want to win. Helping people in need? Surefire way to get votes, y’know?”

“If you want to win what?” Well, shit. He already knew what.

They were practically right outside the door when the kid turned to Dan, blue eyes staring directly into Dan’s own, and replied, “The kindness competition, of course. You must’ve heard about it. What’s your name, anyway?”

Dan flushed. “Dan. Dan Howell. Yours is—?”

The other kid cut Dan off by opening the door and leading Dan into the classroom. “Professor Clarke?”

“Why are you so late, Lester?” said professor barked from the front of the room, where she was writing something on the blackboard. All eyes in the room turned to look them. Dan could see Chris near the front, raising his eyebrows by way of query at the sight of Dan with the other boy. Dan made a sort of helpless gesture in response. Chris seemed to accept it as a good enough answer.

“Sorry, sir,” said the boy, grabbing Dan by the shoulder and dragging him forward. “I was helping Dan here out, he seemed to have a bit of a storage mishap.” He didn’t even miss a beat, and Dan was honestly impressed. No one spoke _that_  smoothly to Professor Clarke. Evidently this kid was an exception.

The professor’s gaze softened. “Alright. Take a seat, boys. Charlie, Hannah,” the professor turned to two students in the front row, “if Dan or Phil needs any help, do me a favour and assist them, will you?”

Chris looked questioningly at Dan, who shrugged, leaning back in his own seat as Clarke turned back to the chalkboard.

The kid gave a kind of “I-told-you-so” wink at Dan as he took his seat, and Dan could’ve sworn that he saw flowers growing in his wake, even though the floor was linoleum. _This_  was the impossible contestant that Chris had referred to.

Dan bit his lip thoughtfully. Phil Lester. Evidently he’d have some _real_  competition this year.

**Author's Note:**

> tell me what u think! i love feedback + reviews so if u have anything to say please tell me c:  
> tumblr: @peacephil #spon


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